


Leaves From The Vine

by KuroNeko414



Category: Twosetviolin, Video Blogging RPF, twoset violin
Genre: Angst, Flashbacks, Go ahead and cry, Hurt No Comfort, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, breddy - Freeform, twosetviolin - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-03
Updated: 2020-08-03
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:20:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25685701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KuroNeko414/pseuds/KuroNeko414
Summary: "I miss you so much."
Relationships: Eddy Chen & Brett Yang, Eddy Chen/Brett Yang
Comments: 13
Kudos: 21





	Leaves From The Vine

A man walks up the hill, footsteps crunching blades of grass below. The breeze sings. Hair whips in front of glass. The sky is a pinkish hue, heat retreating behind the horizon. A green, oversized jacket flaps in the wind.

* * *

Horse hair on violin strings pulled music together. Legs touching, childish giggles heard around the meadow. A little sapling waves around, dancing happily. Pubescent voices cackling, then shouting as sheet music flutters off in the wind. As the wind overtook the melody, the boys sat together beneath twinkling stars. A streak cuts through the divine darkness up above.

_ “So what did you wish for?” _

_ “You know it won’t come true if I tell you, right?” _

_ “You wished to be a soloist, didn’t you?” _

4 beats pass, a whole rest.

_ “Let’s just go home.” _

* * *

Flower dances in the spring, Vivaldi pulsing in the air. Bubble tea cups left on the grass, the remains of sticky sweetness contained. Two violin cases lay next to each other, open tombs encasing rosin. A notebook lays open, pen barely holding its weight over leaves scribbled with crossed out words. An adolescent tree shades two high school boys.

A melody disappears, and the harmony soon follows, a note suspended in a question in the air.

_ “Bro, what about two-set?” _

_ “Twoset,”  _ the other boy says, tasting the name on his tongue, rolling it around his mouth.  _ “I think I like that, but I’ll do you one better: TwoSet Violin.” _

_ “Taking from my ideas, really?” _

Pen scratches on paper haphazardly. One thing circled:  _ TwoSet Violin. _

* * *

_ “Bro, it just hit 50,000.” _

_ “No way, no way,”  _ says a voice slightly off camera.

The taller man engulfs the other.  _ “Bro hug,”  _ the other says.  _ “I love you, Eddy,”  _ was muttered as the camera pats on a shoulder blade. An “I love you too” soon follows, slightly interrupted with sobs.  _ “I love all of you guys,”  _ said the taller man, wiping at his eyes.

* * *

A man looks beside him, gaze aimed at the golden frames and fluffy hair. Crooked teeth bites at shiny lips, hands gesticulating wildly. It looks like a loading icon is right on his face with how his eyes dart side to side searching for the right word.

The man looks away, down at the table in front of him, then at the camera. A small smile plays at his mouth.

_ “Brett,”  _ he hears, and he locks his eyes back to where the sound had come. Such a sweet voice, to be saying his name like that. He nods as the other continues to explain to their audience, confidence and authority radiating off of him. He would make a wonderful professor.

* * *

A blanket flutters, each corner held down by an item. A violin case with a black embroidered patch. An open backpack, an ipad sitting snugly within. Shoes barely holding the sheet. A small bouquet of lilacs huddled with a violin and a bow at the last corner, to the right of the man’s feet.

Two tall glasses of bubble tea lay next to each other, one right beneath the shade of a tree, the other perspiring in the sun. One straw sits in the man’s right hand, the other rests on his head as he laid on his back.

“Hey Eddy,” the bespectacled man begins. It feels bitter on his tongue, the name rolling off like sandpaper. So different from when it used to whirl around his mouth, sweet and malleable as tapioca pearls. Warm hands engulfing his own small ones. An arm snaking underneath his flannel shirt as they waltzed around the room.

A hearty laugh elicited by the stupidest viola jokes. A high-pitched tone underneath a blonde wig. Smooth and suave with the C clef and a Viking hat. Prissy with the scarf holding a mug, harping about his honey-infused lemon drink.

Head rolling and hitting the window blinds. Crooked grins with knowing looks thrown to him. Perfect pitch determining the note of a butt slap. A big hand gratuitously slapping at his sweats-covered butt, right in front of the camera.  _ “I can’t believe I did that,”  _ he says. Sure.

  
  


“I saw the funniest meme yesterday on our reddit,” he says, a laugh escaping him. “Yeah, it was a stupid viola joke, but they decided to put an extra spin on it with math. We both fricken sucked at math, man. I don’t know why they think we’d get it, I had to look at the comments underneath.”

The glasses get discarded on the soft fabric over the grass. 

“We have the most talented subreddit in the world,” he says. “Somehow they probably forgot that we were in maths tutoring though. I’m surprised they’d forget seeing how we told that story a billion times.”

The wind howls. He tries to push his words past his larynx despite how heavy they feel coming up from his chest.

“We got a lot more designs to be released soon. I’ve been working with the team for a few months,” the man says, his throat getting dry. The straw rolling between his fingers, still in its plastic wrapping.

“You know, I wish you’d model for us. The new merch would’ve looked so good on you, and I bet the fans would’ve made a billion thirst posts in your image. We got the trench coat done, I can’t be the one modeling that one, bro. I’m too- I’m too short for that.”

Tears slide quietly down his face, silent sobs racking up his shoulders.

“I miss you so much, Eddy.”

Autumn leaves fall, cold starting to bite as the sun bids its goodbye. The orange hue turns to pink, to purple, to blue. The man gets up and takes the cup that was once in the sun, unwraps the straw and pierces the plastic with it.

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah I recently binge-watched book 2 and half of book 3 of ATLA at my sister's place. Yeah I got ruined by Tale of Iroh of course. Yeah I listened to it and thought, "yeah this is totally the perfect song to write my first actual angst piece to."  
> I hope you enjoyed this piece I broke my own heart for.  
> And if you haven't watched ATLA, fricken go do it.


End file.
